


Hearthfire

by Nele



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 03:17:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nele/pseuds/Nele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jee and Zuko, on the way home from the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hearthfire

**Author's Note:**

> A random bit of H/C fluff for the anon on [Princebender](http://princebender.tumblr.com/) who wanted to see Zuko showing his loving side.

The ice opened up under Jee's feet with the sound of an explosion. There was blood in his eyes from a cut across his brow; the distraction was enough to make him stumble as he tried to dodge to the side, but not enough to keep him from knowing at once that he was too slow and he'd just killed himself. The crevasse snapped shut on his lower leg, creaking and crunching, and he felt the cold touch his blood long before the pain even registered.

His eyes flew open. 

His leg was throbbing, but it was nothing like the knife-sharp agony of long ago. The chill in his bones was still there, but it was soothed by the balmy air of the cabin around him. The ceiling, the stark straight lines of it and the pipes running along the sides, was bathed in grey-red moonlight that came through the window above his head. Not a hint of the eerie blue glow of the Water Tribe's spirit monster that colored Jee's nightmares every time he closed his eyes.

This wasn't the ice pit in the northern fortress where he'd been wasting away during the endless months after the siege. He was on a ship, a Fire Nation ship, all good solid metal with the smell of coal baked into it, and he was going home.

Fire Lord Zuko had personally come to buy his freedom, Jee's and that of the other prisoners who had survived the battle and the aftermath. Someone must have given Zuko a list of names, because Jee had been half-marched, half-carried straight to the Fire Lord's personal quarters on his flagship instead of being berthed below deck with his fellow soldiers.

He couldn't recall any Water savages telling him to state his name. Then again, much of the early days of his emprisonment had been a blur of hurt, cold, and sickening fear that his captors would decide that firebending prisoners were more trouble than they were worth. Maybe they'd decided exactly that. Jee had seen very few other firebenders among the survivors, and he had a horrible suspicion that he'd been left alive only because his leg was mangled too badly for him to attempt escape. Maybe they'd clubbed to death anyone who could both melt ice and was fit enough to try something.

But now the Fire Lord had come for them. Fire Lord Zuko. 

Jee was only just starting to get used to the idea after four days of much sleep, very painful visits from the ship's doctor, and frequent and erratic interruptions by the Fire Lord himself. The doctor had absolutely forbidden Jee to use the leg, so he hadn't tried to wander around, but it seemed like he was in a cabin somewhere in Zuko's quarters. Next to where he worked, apparently; he was always carrying letters or scrolls when he burst into Jee's room. Even if the ship's bells hadn't been there, Jee would have known the time of the day by the number of ink stains on the Fire Lord's hands.

Zuko had been a messy writer back on their little ship, too. Jee had been feeling compulsed to catalogue all the ways in which the new Fire Lord was different from the old Prince Zuko. He needed the reassurance of knowing that the boy he'd once taken to his bed was still there under all the finery. It was only the little hints of familiar brattiness and bluster that made him believe this was all real, not something he was imagining as the cold and loneliness of his prison had finally made his mind go rotten.

He'd barely finished the thought when Zuko stalked into the cabin, hair down - he had _hair_ \- and a long and richly embroidered night cloak wrapped around his shoulders. The lamps besides the door flared into brilliant light in his wake. Jee had been trying to light them from his bed earlier today, but his fire was still so weak and sluggish from the endless months in ice that he'd only managed to produce some sparks and a headache. He still felt cold even under three blankets.

"Oh. You're up," Zuko said. He stopped halfway between the door and the bed. There were some papers crumpled in his hand. "I thought I heard you yell."

And he'd come running, or at least stalking, without even putting down his correspondence. Jee looked at the mass of ink stains on his fingers and felt a rush of warmth along with the embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was just dreaming." Wait. "I mean, My Lord."

Zuko's frown softened.

"Sir is good. I like sir," he said. It was amazing how much more relaxed his face looked compared to back when he'd been a royal little pain in the ass who never should have been given command of a rowboat, let alone a ship full of people. He still didn't really smile much, but he looked like he might.

Zuko moved to stand in front of the chair by the bed. He'd been coming into the room at all sorts of odd hours for days, but he never actually stayed or sat down. It felt like he wasn't quite sure what to do with Jee now that they couldn't simply fall back into their old pattern of order-barking and insolence and bickering and fucking.

"Why aren't you asleep? The doctor said he gave you poppy tea for your leg."

The ship's doctor was a hack who was doing nothing but drug Jee until they reached Caldera, where a more experienced royal physician would re-break the bone and set it properly. After that bit of fun, apparently all they could do was hope for the best. Considering what his prospects had been like only days ago, though, the idea of walking with a cane for the rest of his life wasn't all that awful.

"Yes, sir. It doesn't hurt much. But the warmth wore off." He considered how rude it would be to tell the Fire Lord to fetch something, then decided to risk it. Zuko had been remarkably solicitous and tolerant up to now. "Sir, could I trouble you to ask your steward for another pot of tea?"

"Poppy tea?"

"Any kind, sir." If he had more of the poppy stuff, he'd fall over dead. "Or anything hot to drink. My fire's still weak. Hot things help."

"Oh," Zuko said. "All right, wait."

He dropped the abused papers onto the chair, walked to a side cabinet, and produced a tea pot and a series of little ceramic containers with ridiculously fancy decoration and glazing. Jee watched in silent fascination as he began to go through the familiar motions that General Iroh executed at least five times a day back on the old ship. There were tea leaves and steaming water being handled. It was perfectly obvious what Zuko was doing, but Jee's mind wasn't quite matching things up.

After a few minutes, Zuko turned around and pushed something deliciously hot into Jee's hands. 

"Here."

Jee blinked at it. It looked like a tea cup. It smelled exactly like a tea cup did when it was full of tea.

"You made tea."

Zuko frowned. "Yes." He looked a bit confused by Jee's reaction, as if Prince... Fire Lord Zuko making tea was not something on the same level of absurdity as Captain Zhao picking flowers.

"...Why did _you_ make tea? Sir."

There was a hint of annoyance creeping into the frown.

"Look, I know it's not halfway as good as Uncle's, but it's hot. And it's not bad, I practiced. Drink."

The instinct to obey a direct order from a superior officer was probably all that made Jee raise the cup to his lips. It tasted good. Not spectacular, but someone had clearly managed to make Zuko sit still long enough to teach him how to brew properly. The General must have been over the moon.

Zuko was looking at him expectantly. There was a hint of his old determination in the way he was standing there, arms crossed, as if he was daring Jee to not like his tea.

"Are you warmer now?"

He was. Jee almost whimpered as he felt the soothing heat of the drink swell into a tide under his skin, so sudden and strong that it made his throat close up.

He'd had nothing to do in that ice pit except miss the man who was standing at arm's length from him right now. Nothing to hope for except that Zuko had made it out alive and might remember him, might come back for him one day when he could, because Fire Lord Ozai sure as fuck wasn't going to bother negotiating the release of a few hundred grunts.

And now he was going home. He had no idea what he was going home to, or if he'd ever be allowed to touch Zuko again when all he wanted was to reach out and hold on. But he was going home, and whatever else lay in store for him, he'd be kept safe and warm while he couldn't do so for himself.

"Thank you, sir," he murmured. Mumbled. His eyes were stinging.

Now Zuko did smile, careful but clearly relieved. He lowered himself into the chair by the bed. It was close enough that Jee could reach out and touch him if he dared.

"Go to sleep. I need to work."

Zuko shook out his crumpled papers and began to read, squinting like he always used to when trying to decipher small handwriting. Apparently the court scribes hadn't figured out yet that their new Fire Lord had the eyesight of a very old and decripit wolf-bat.

Sighing, Jee closed his eyes and burrowed into the bed as much as his leg allowed. His fire was still barely more than sputtering embers, but the heat from the tea was seeping into his bones, and the thrum of Zuko's fire close by - so much stronger now, so much steadier than before - was more of a comfort than anything else could ever be.


End file.
